Unspoken
by bandgrad2008
Summary: Walk Away.


**Disclaimer: I don't own Victorious.**

**A/N: This one-shot literally has no point. It's from Jade's point of view about Tori, since that's never clarified. I just...needed to work off some depression and this is what was formed. Legend will be updated tomorrow, promise. **

**Enjoy.**

**Or not.**

She sits through your computer screen, face frozen in a bright smile, one that you're used to seeing. One that you used to see every time she was around you. But you don't see it anymore, and it hurts. You feel like your heart has been ripped out of your chest, placed on the back burner and fried until there's nothing left.

But you won't say anything.

She deserves to be happy too, even if it isn't with you. Yet you haven't seen her smile once since she left you, withdrawn into yourself on the couch, broken bottle of whatever it was—you're sure it was vodka—while she walked away from you. But you weren't the only one broken. You could see it on her face, in those brown eyes that you had spent hours and lifetime moments staring into.

Every time you saw her after that, she looked torn from the inside out, as though something had taken refuge inside of her, sucking the life out of her. You couldn't ask her about it, knowing that whatever answer she would have given you was bound to resume its torture upon your heart.

So you let her go. You watched her walk away, taking everything with her that you had willingly given. You cried for days, nights, for what seemed like eternity, but you could never find the strength to blame her. You weren't to blame either, but you took it upon yourself to ensure that you suffered every ounce of pain, in hopes that it would take from her.

You just wanted to take her misery from her.

Nothing was ever easy when it came to her. You tried and gave her your all, promising things that you knew would never be true for her. But you were determined to make her see that you were there, that she would never lose you, and when it became too hard for her to take, when she couldn't understand why you put yourself on the line for her, why you put your life on hold…She walked away.

You haven't actually seen her in thirteen days. Your friends have noticed, coming to you with their concerns, but you brush them off and tell them that everything's fine. But you know that it isn't. You can't even pretend that it's fine anymore. Your acting skills are nothing anymore, just another dream that you feel you have to give up. You haven't been able to smile in weeks, not even when you saw her, and you're sure that you're close to losing your mind.

You've already lost everything else.

But you weren't expecting them to grab you by the arms and force you to sit down and listen to everything they had to say. They noticed that you were skinnier, that you were paler, that you were on a path to self-destruction. And they couldn't allow that. They were your _friends_, and they cared about you.

But they were also her friends and they wanted both of you to just get over it and talk. What could you ever say to her that wouldn't make things worse than they already were? Your friends didn't understand that; they just assumed that it was so easy for you to go to her and that you both would kiss and make up.

Things never ended like that for you.

You were used to people disappearing, walking out of your life, leaving you far behind and moving on with their lives. You were used to your heart always breaking when you allowed yourself to care. That's why you didn't. If you just kept your feelings to yourself, acted like you didn't care, if you were mean…It was all just easier for you.

But you had broken her heart, and she had broken yours. And you just had to get over it. There was no time, no room, for dwelling on the pain, on the heartache. You had to let her go and continue on with your life. It was the only way to live.

You didn't know that they would follow you everywhere, reluctant to let you out of their sight, that you were going to be shoved right into the closet along with her, locked in and told to talk things over. Maybe if you had, you could have avoided them completely and disappeared from their crosshairs. But you hadn't, and here you were.

She stands as far as she can from you, her arms crossed and her eyes averted, as though meeting your eyes would cause her to burn. And you were sure that you met hers, the same would happen. Neither of you speak for forty-five minutes, standing in silence and avoiding the other, neither of you knowing how to make anything better.

Because nothing would ever make this better. You would just have to endure it.


End file.
